


Roses are Red, Violets are Blue...

by experimentorium



Series: Growing Pains [2]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Drinking, F/F, Nudity, i was gonna make this a continuation of venus valse but its more like a distant cousin now, i will hide back in my little cave now, i will think of new tags to add at some point, its a human AU, lots of kiss. they kiss so much. og my hgod, mature-ish content in chapter 3, rated M for brief tiddy, so.. venus valse's distant cousin fic, there's only a little but it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23204389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/experimentorium/pseuds/experimentorium
Summary: (Two Valentine's Days and one movie night.)
Relationships: Marina & Pearl (Splatoon), Marina/Pearl (Splatoon)
Series: Growing Pains [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679284
Comments: 17
Kudos: 57





	1. Hugs and Kisses

Pearl hasn’t eaten anything all day. She woke up that morning and felt like her stomach was turning itself inside out, so she skipped out on school, instead opting to shiver profusely under twelve blankets and refuse the soup her father offered to make her; she glared with particular irritation at the comically large heart-shaped box of chocolates she was planning to deliver to Marina on one knee before chem lab. Marina doesn’t even _like_ chocolate, but the purpose of Pearl’s existence is to be larger than life and completely ridiculous, so she had been looking forward to it—to the expression on Marina’s face, to ending up eating all the chocolate herself while watching Marina bus tables at the diner after school.

Yes, it was February fourteenth, better known as Valentine’s Day. Whenever they spend those oddly domestic days grocery shopping together around early February, Marina squeezes the the paws of every stuffed bear she sees in an aisle, so they all start chanting raspy proclamations of love at discordant levels, blinding cacophonies of “ _be mine’s_ ” and ” _I love you beary much’s_ ”. A rare moment of chaos Marina loves to ring in, and Pearl thinks it's absolutely priceless, especially the effect the prank has on passers-by.

“ _Another corporate scheme for bigger profits: dye it pink, slap some hearts on it and sell it at double the price_ ,” Marina says, because she spends half her free time after school in debate team arguing about things like _false advertising_ and _the effect of the capitalist market on today’s economy_. Business talk goes right in Pearl’s ear and comes right out the other, but when Marina’s arguing in debate, Pearl doesn’t think she’s ever been able to stare at someone so long and not get tired of it. Marina becomes this new woman, confident and bold like she isn’t in class when she’s half-awake and running on fumes. 

Pearl’s anger rises the longer she glares at the stuff she bought for Marina; of _course_ , all she wanted was to spend a day together, but her poor physical health just _had_ to step in the way. The angrier she gets, the more she forgets her woozy nausea, the sourness that had settled in her bones. Once it’s dark outside she decides she’s had enough of being ill and kicks out of her bedsheets, digging around through her drawer and throwing on a sweatshirt that’s probably still clean. She swipes the baby thermometer across her forehead to check for a fever, and when she finds none to speak of, she heads downstairs with gusto, in search of her coat and boots.

The house is empty now, inevitably so. It’s empty most nights, what with her father working late and her brother and sisters still with their mother. The Houzuki mansion lets the wind blow through it like a sigh, footsteps echo against whitewashed walls and ceilings taller than six times Pearl’s own height. If it weren’t built with the structural integrity of a fortress, Pearl thinks the house might sag and start crying one of these days. 

She doesn’t leave a note for her father as she leaves, merely turns the lights off and locks the door shut behind her, heading out into the biting cold. Marina’s house is all the way across town, in a neighborhood hidden by canopies of trees, where ivy creeps over the rusted wire fences that weakly stake out the boundaries between each property. Pearl doesn’t mind the walk, it takes her mind off of things. She can’t ride a bike like Marina can, so she trusts instead in her own legs; she wobbles a little—a result of not actually doing anything except wallowing all day—but she’s already got her point B in mind, and she _will_ make it to Marina’s house.

It’s not windy or freezing by any means, the chill air is merely still in darkness, naked tree branches knotty and twisted, reaching menacingly through the air above her; no longer the usual canopy of green and yellow it becomes during the warmer months. 

Despite her jacket, she’s shivering so much her teeth chatter, hands that were freezing before she even left the house buried deep into her fleece-lined pockets. There’s an unfamiliar car in the driveway at Marina’s house, Pearl assumes it belongs to Octavio. Before Nessa turned eighteen, Marina’s uncle supposedly took care of her and her sisters. Marina never talked much about him, and Pearl never really cared enough to press for information. She instinctively looks up at the second story window; Marina’s bedroom. The room is dark, but Pearl can hear music playing. Usually when she’s got her CD player’s volume jacked up like this, she’s trying to drown something else out.

Pearl steps up the front stoop, looking around with her hand hanging tentatively in front of the door to knock. The broken garage door has always been stuck half-open, and peering through the nearly-dark crack tells Pearl that two bikes are chained together just inside, likely Lenn and Marina’s. 

_Oh, fuck it_ , she quits stalling and knocks on the door. Nobody answers; she reaches for the handle and finds it unlocked, shiny metal coating rubbed away from years of hands touching it. The old thing squeaks on its hinges as she opens it, and she winces, looking around for anybody who might kick her back out. The kitchen is empty, and the only thing she hears is the music pouring from Marina’s room, muffled through the ceiling. 

She wanders through the house cautiously, leaving her boots and coat by the door. Tiptoeing through the living room to head upstairs, Pearl nearly jumps out of her skin when she passes a man slumped into himself on the old sofa. He has a glass in his hand, and there’s a half-empty bottle on the coffee table; the air is stale and heavy around him. He stares at Pearl through glazed dark eyes, head bobbing back and forth like he’s a moment from passing out. _This... is the uncle?_

When he speaks, Pearl has to strain a little to make out what he’s saying. 

“Wwwish I’gah more… pock-psh...cash… send’er t’Eurouhh, or, or suthin’... you thinguh? You, she wanna… she, see th’worl, the… she deserves that’a.. donyou think?” He raises his eyebrows; through the intoxicated nature of his manner, Pearl sees something like hurt. _This guy_ … _he’s completely sloshed_. 

“Ah… huh,” Pearl says quietly, the first time she’s bothered using her voice all day. 

Octavio nods, pitching forward and catching himself just before he can topple off the sofa. Music continues to hum through the ceiling, and Pearl tears her gaze from the mess, turning to the stairs. Her socked feet pad up the carpeted steps and when she reaches the top, she finds Lenn sitting against the wall on the landing, scribbling into a sketchbook. The roots of her hair are starting to grow in dark again, popping against the rest of her asymmetrically bleached hair. Pearl had offered to help her dye it purple, once, but they hadn’t talked about it since. She figures now isn’t the best time to ask about it. 

Lenn looks up, nods to Pearl. She seems not to mind that Pearl broke in unannounced. 

“She’s in her bedroom,” she murmurs, leaning back against the wall. Her bun flattens against the wallpaper behind her. “I’m on d-bag duty, making sure he doesn’t destroy the house.”

“Where’s Nessa?” Pearl whispers. 

“Asleep. Lord knows she needs it,” Lenn slouches forward and returns to her sketchbook.

Pearl would question how someone could sleep through music playing as loud as it was, but she’d seen Nessa during a power nap—she sleeps like a rock, and can stay that way for hours. Pearl offers a simple nod, continuing her trek through the narrow upstairs hallway. Marina’s room is at the very end, and the floor starts vibrating under her feet the closer she gets. 

Pearl hesitates before Marina’s door, hand settled on the knob. She presses her forehead to the painted wood. She _misses_ Marina, she’s missed her all day, regardless of pointless, supposedly-romantic holidays. She isn’t sure if the way Lenn had told her “ _she’s in her room_ ”—like she had somehow contracted a terminal illness—should upset her; obviously something not nice had happened if the uncle’s home _and_ Marina’s decided to blast her music at a decidedly unhealthy volume. But, she came because she wanted to see Marina, and she’d rather deal with angry Marina than pussy out and go back home to her father’s huge, empty house and her huge, empty bedroom. She knocks on the door. 

“Why can’t you fucking understand, _go away_ ,” Marina yells through the door, over the music blasting through the speakers. A solid f-bomb from Marina’s mouth, it shoots like an icy bullet right through Pearl’s chest. Disregarding the obvious warning, she slowly opens the door, peeking her head through the crack. Marina is facedown on the carpet, the closet door is thrown open and Starman is playing. Interesting addition to the _emotional turmoil_ playlist. When she lifts her head to look at Pearl there’s venom in her eyes, tear tracks on her cheeks; her eyes are red, appearing redder because the only light she has on is the lava lamp in the closet. 

When she sees Pearl and not Octavio at the door, the venom is gone immediately. Marina’s eyes well up and her head tilts back to the carpet, face twisted over silent tears. Pearl sinks to her hands and knees, kicks the door closed behind her and crawls over to Marina. She reaches out to Pearl like a toddler to their mother, and Pearl hugs her close, not minding the tears soaking into her shirt. 

Pearl presses her cheek to Marina’s forehead, heated from the strain of crying for so long. Her hand is at Marina’s back, an anchor, a reassurance. Her sobs come in little waves, she’ll tense up and Pearl will try to soothe it without suffocating her, just letting her breathe; just to know she isn’t alone. Pearl can’t decide if she’s scared or just upset, she’s never seen Marina like this before. The best help she can think to give is to be whatever Marina needs her to be. Right now, that seems to be an open shoulder to rest on, a comforting touch. 

Slowly, sobs begin quieting to slight sniffles, and Marina breathes deeper to calm herself; she leans away so she can turn down the music, and crawls right back into Pearl’s arms. She seems so... _small_ , Pearl thinks absently. Her breathing evens out, warm over Pearl’s collarbone. 

“Why weren’t you at school?” her voice is rough and quiet, catches over _weren’t_. 

“Didn’t feel good,” Pearl murmurs; they lean into each other, Marina’s head nestled at the crook of Pearl’s neck. “Got you chocolate, though.”

Marina laughs, watery and halted, and Pearl’s heart soars at the sound.

“Yeah, the- the box is bigger than my head,” she adds, and Marina rocks closer, swaying them both. There’s a nagging wet spot where Marina was crying at Pearl’s shoulder, but it’s barely worth attention.

“Thank you,” Marina says quietly, and Pearl’s not entirely sure if it’s for the chocolate or not. 

“Anytime,” Pearl smiles. 

Marina moves lethargically, she shifts her head and presses a kiss to the side of Pearl’s neck. It’s gentle and quick, but Pearl could melt. Ever so slightly, she squeezes Marina’s shoulder. If it were humanly possible to hold her closer, she would. Marina hums along to the quieted music, the sound vibrating between them.

“Hey,” Pearl whispers.

“Hm?” she feels Marina’s eyelashes flutter against her neck.

“It’s late.”

Marina hums again.

“We should get to sleep. You should rest.”

“Mm... ” she starts sliding in the direction of her bed; she pauses before they completely detach, and looks at Pearl through tired eyes. “We?”

“Yeah, I, I mean, I don’t have to stay if you don’t want me to, I can—” Pearl sees Marina’s tiny smile, and she trails off. 

“I want you to stay.” She says quietly.

(It’s Friday night, so it’s likely Pearl’s dad won’t call for her until late tomorrow, anyway.) 

“Okay, then.” Inside, Pearl is squirming, like she’s twelve years old again. “I’ll stay.” Marina’s hand trails down her arm as she starts to back up towards the bed, until she’s just holding onto the tips of Pearl’s fingers. She lets go once she’s dragged Pearl all the way to the edge of the mattress, settling back against her bed. Pearl swallows dryly. 

“Marina?” She murmurs. Marina’s eyes have already started slipping shut. “I’m gonna get some water for us, mkay?”

Marina makes a semi-conscious noise of affirmation into her pillow and Pearl steps out. She tiptoes down the stairs, the patch of carpet on the landing where Lenn had been sitting is empty. On the couch, Octavio is completely out, snoring ugly and loud. Both the glass and the bottle are gone; Pearl finds them in the kitchen, sitting empty and sparkling clean on the countertop beside Lenn, who’s scrubbing angrily at something in the sink. 

“Poured it out,” Lenn grumbles. “Shoulda done it sooner, but…” she trails off, and Pearl can imagine the extent of what might have happened if she had tried to do it while Octavio was still awake. She pauses, looks at Pearl. “How… is she doing? Is she alright?”

“She’s in bed now,” Pearl yawns. “You got water?”

“There are bottles in the fridge,” Lenn nods to the refrigerator. As Pearl grabs two bottles and heads to leave, she speaks up again. “Thank you… for being here. I’m shit at comforting and I—I’m glad, you, she, she’d…”

Pearl smiles. 

“I, yeah,” her gaze drops to the floor, her cheeks colored. 

“You’re welcome, doofus. Thanks for not getting mad that I broke in,” Pearl turns and starts out of the kitchen.

“I was toying with the idea of calling you anyway, I…” Lenn sounds uncharacteristically vulnerable. “There’s not much I can do, but I figured you…” she stammers, “Nevermind, what the fuck. Just go back upstairs. I got shit to clean.” 

“You got it,” Pearl chuckles, shaking her head.

Pearl pauses on the stairs as she heads back, staring for a moment at Octavio, sprawled out on the couch. 

Marina is already under the covers when she returns; Pearl presses the cold water to her forehead and her eyes flutter open. She slowly takes it from Pearl, fiddling with the cap before she can twist it off; she drinks half the bottle while Pearl crawls into the closet to flip off the lava lamp and the CD player. Luke Skywalker’s laser gun points at her forehead, and Pearl frowns at him as she backs out of the closet to head to bed.

She squeezes close to Marina on the twin mattress, shared body heat enough to combat the shiver in Pearl’s bones.

“I’ll make breakfast tomorrow?” Pearl whispers, running her thumb over the curve of Marina’s cheekbone.

Marina frowns. “I don’t want to go downstairs.”

“Fine, I’ll make it and bring it up to you,” Pearl says. “Breakfast in bed.”

“How romantic,” Marina smiles. 

“Oh, yeah,” Pearl nods, matter-of-fact. “I’m hardcore. Romance to the max.” 

Marina chuckles, reaches for Pearl’s hand, dragging her thumb from the center of Pearl’s palm down to the seam where her hand meets her wrist; right over her pulse, where the skin is sensitive. Something inside Pearl shivers at the touch. Marina lets go of her wrist, and sets her finger under Pearl’s chin, pad of her thumb just ghosting feather-light over her bottom lip. Pearl exhales unevenly through her nose.

“I missed you today,” Marina’s voice is lost somewhere between sound and a whisper.

“I missed you too,” Pearl exhales, like she’s letting a burden slide off her shoulders. “I kinda fuckin miss you all the time.”

“But I’m right here?” she sniffs and her eyes are swollen and she smiles, and Pearl has never seen anyone so beautiful, she thinks, ever. 

Pearl’s brilliant response is something like “ _Yeah-uh_ ,” but her body moves a little faster than her tired, sluggish brain and before she knows it she’s leaned down and Marina’s kissing her, or she’s kissing Marina, and every nerve in her body is singing in delight. Pearl’s legs are already jelly, so when Marina’s hand rests on her side and slides up to her back to pull her closer, Pearl is a lost cause. Her lips are soft and pliable, like Pearl had only daydreamed of before. Marina hums and it vibrates between them, sending some sweetness blooming inside her, heat in the space between them. Pearl pulls away once her body starts protesting the effort it takes not to slump over and sleep for a decade.

“Why’d we have to wait to do that?” Pearl laughs into the pillow, pinching Marina’s cheek. 

“Oh—” Marina pulls Pearl’s hand away from her cheek, rubs her finger over that same sensitive spot again, shifting up to circle her thumb over the center of her palm. “I… I’ve never, kissed anyone before…” she squeezes her eyes shut. “I didn’t… want to do a bad job…”

Pearl lets Marina hide her blush behind her hand, chuckling giddily. “I don’t care if you woulda’ done a bad job…” she closed her eyes. “God, if I could just kiss you all the time…” 

“It won’t be as good if you do it all the time,” Marina murmurs. “You have to savor it, right?”

“Fuck that,” Pearl pulls her hand away from Marina’s face to kiss her again. This time, she’s proving a point. Marina’s eyes are closed in bliss when she pulls away. “Was that any worse than the first?” 

Marina smiles. “...no,” she admits. 

“Good.” She finally gives in to exhaustion, lowering to the bed and yawning into the pillows that smell like Marina, her hand still clasped in Marina’s. They gaze at each other; half of Marina’s face is still hidden by her own hand. Pearl thinks her dark eyes almost sparkle, through dried tears and tired eyelids. She tries to keep her eyes pried open to look at her just a little longer; Marina’s holding her hand like it’s the most precious thing. “Get some sleep, Reena.“

Marina presses her cheek to Pearl’s knuckles. “Night, Pearlie.” 

She hums in response, her eyes drifting shut.

Pearl wakes up to sunlight breaking through the slats in the window shade, golden stripes over the bed she’s lying on. The first thing she registers is how dry her mouth is, the second is how heavy she’s suddenly become. Her head is free enough from heavy sleep to will her eyes open; she realizes she’s hugging a pillow to her chest, and there’s a pair of arms around her waist. She’s never felt so settled and comfortable in her life, like she could become part of the mattress.

Eventually, her thirst gets the better of her. Trying to move the least amount possible, she reaches to the nightstand to grab her water bottle and drinks thirstily, cool water a relief to her parched tongue. She settles back to bed, satisfied, eyes slipping shut again. After a long, lazy while, Marina stirs behind her. It’s a single kiss, Marina presses to the back of her neck, where her hair is the shortest. It’s only one kiss, but it warms her whole body. She lets her head turn further to the pillow, baring more skin for Marina to explore.

Slowly, Marina shifts again as she begins to wake; her hand slips beneath the hem of Pearl’s shirt, her finger tracing lightly across Pearl’s stomach. She gets bolder as the lazy morning sun stretches longer over them, shifting over Pearl to kiss her neck, up to her jaw. There’s some dangerous problem with Marina kissing her, touching her like this, especially when she decides to bite her earlobe. A hazy memory of cruddy beer passes her mind, and she can’t help the involuntary, half-formed mewl that catches on her inhale.

“Remember you liked that,” Marina mumbles against her, and Pearl thinks she’s going to die; she is surrounded by Marina, and she’s sure that if she will die, this may be the best possible way to go. 

She wants to say “ _Please bite me again_ ,” but instead she rolls around in Marina’s arms and smiles up at her. 

“G’morning,” she murmurs.

“Morning,” Marina whispers. Her eyes are still a little swollen, but she looks better than last night. She leans down to kiss Pearl, and then chuckles.

“What?” Pearl asks, turning her head to yawn the other way. 

“You were right, I could kiss you forever.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m always right,” Pearl smirks, still only half awake. Marina pinches her stomach and she twitches. “Ow, rude.”

“And you’re cocky. I’ll pinch you as many times as it takes.” Marina rolls back onto the mattress, shifting up to rest against Pearl’s shoulder.

“Too late to say Happy Valentine’s Day?” Pearl laughs.

“Valentine’s Day is for weenies.”

“You’re a weenie.” Pearl pokes her. 

“ _You’re_ a weenie.” Marina pokes her back.

“You’re weenier.” Pearl taps the tip of her nose.

Marina laughs. “You’re weeniest.”

“You’re infiniweenie. I win.”

“Fine,” Marina smiles against her collarbone. “You win.”

“Hell yeah, I win.” She kisses Marina’s forehead. 

They lie together, basking in the slats of sunlight and drifting back into half-consciousness. As much as Pearl loves the closeness, the lazy sweetness of the morning, nature marches on. 

Pearl hums sleepily. “M’have to pee.”

Marina’s eyes are closed, but she reaches up and musses Pearl’s hair before letting her arm fall back to the covers, a message Pearl takes as affirmation enough. She slides out of bed, irritation crawling just under her skin at the lack of contact, but she rolls her neck and stretches her arms above her head and heads out to appease her urinary tract.

The magic spell of her good mood breaks when she looks at herself in the bathroom mirror. She looks dried out, gray and sick. _Grayer than usual_ , she snorts bitterly. Her hair is starting to touch the back of her neck again, growing out from choppy, uneven cuts to a wavy look reminiscent of a bob. Instead of sticking up, her bangs are finally long enough to lay flat. Pearl wets her fingers at the sink and pushes them back up again. She looks goofy, she laughs and her head dips, chin to her sternum. She doesn’t really understand why someone like Marina looked at someone like her and saw something other than _this_ , messy hair and gray complexion and ugly discontent. She supposes she loves Marina. Not that she would ever be caught mooning over her, or smiling stupidly at the sky while she thinks about her. Or… does she do that? 

Pearl frowns. She’d blow up the world if Marina asked her to. She’s a familiar face, a hand at Pearl’s back to steady her, and that’s all she can really ask for. She loves Marina. For being there. So when Marina needs her, she’ll be there, too. 

She walks on her heels from the bathroom back to Marina’s room, making indents in the puffy wall-to-wall carpeting. Marina is sitting up in bed, staring down at her lap with a glazed sort of expression. Pearl doesn’t think it’s morning grogginess. She falls onto the mattress at Marina’s feet, on her back, so she can look right up into Marina’s face. Her expression lightens just barely as the mattress bounces aftershocks underneath them. She touches Pearl’s forehead, flicks her bangs.

“Your hair’s such a mess,” she says quietly.

“Isn’t it?” Pearl grins.

Marina breaks into a smile at Pearl’s pride, closing her eyes and shaking her head. 

“You’re going to grow it out a little?” she asks. 

“Hm, I want it to look like a rat’s nest for as long as possible,” Pearl says.

Marina settles back, eyes still closed, smile fading. Pearl gets the sense that she needs some time let alone. She doesn’t want to pry, she saw the damage done last night. Pearl just had her break from paradise, and now she supposes, it’s Marina’s turn.

“I’m gonna make breakfast,” Pearl says softly, and Marina nods silently. Pearl touches her knee reassuringly, slides out of bed again and shrugs the collar of her shirt over her shoulders as she heads downstairs. 

Pearl hears voices murmuring before she even starts down the stairs, sound carries through the old house like a fire across dry leaves. She finds the twin sources of sound in the kitchen—where she’s headed anyways—in the form of Nessa and Lenn, sitting at the peninsula. She hasn’t seen Nessa since last week, last Friday when they had their weekly movie night. 

She’s always been tall—rarely an unfamiliar issue in Pearl’s experience—but recently, Marina’s started getting taller too, and it’s almost a comedy act, watching Nessa try to push down on the top of her head while her back is turned. Pearl’s not really sure what Nessa does as her day job, but she knows she goes to the gym pretty much every morning, or she’s out running, or hiking at some ungodly hour; and it sure shows. She’s almost dangerously in shape, sometimes Pearl almost fears for her life a little—but a few years of hanging around them and with the “intimidation stage” dissipated, Nessa had even started calling her that ridiculous nickname, _MC_ . Marina had once told her Nessa thought she was a “funky kid,” and if there were any second thoughts lingering about her interactions with Marina’s older sister, they were gone the moment the word _funky_ entered the equation. 

Before they can notice her presence, Pearl glances around the living room. The sofa is empty of any gross, drunk men, and the room is absent of any sign that one had existed there at all. The only memory of the previous night is the disgusting, tangy hint of booze and sweat still hanging heavy in the air around her. 

“Ey, it’s the MC!” Nessa notices Pearl first, her voice raspy and tired but certainly not lacking any of her signature energy. Lenn turns and nods to her. “Sleep alright?”

“Yeh,” Pearl yawns, stepping into the kitchen. “Makin’ breakfast, either of you want some?”

“What is it?” Lenn asks, slouching down to rest her chin on the countertop.

“You guys got chicken thighs?” Pearl beelines for the fridge.

“Oh, yeah, in the slaughterhouse out back, take as much as you want,” Nessa responds wryly. 

“Found some,” Pearl ignores the comment, pulling a round plastic container from the fridge.

“Yo, come on, what are you _making?_ ” Lenn repeats, agitated. 

“Rice omelette,” Pearl works her way through the kitchen like it's her own, pulling out salt and pepper, a skillet and a few spoons. “Made it once before here, I think… Marina likes it, anyways.” She nods to Lenn. “Cheese on yours?”

Pearl feels the temperature drop, the lingering, accusatory feeling of having made a mistake hanging over her head at the mention of Marina’s name; the air almost seems to grow somber between the three of them, like a cloud’s just covered the sun. Inwardly, Pearl rolls her eyes; _she ain’t_ dead, _you guys_.

“Cheese?” Pearl repeats impatiently.

“Oh, uh,” Lenn frowns. “Yeah… thanks.”

“Mm-hm,” Pearl hums. “Loch Ness?”

“I’ll wring your pipsqueak neck, _Loch Ness_ ,” Nessa chuckles, shaking off the solemnity and kicking back in her chair. “Cheese is fine.” She pauses as Pearl pulls out the rice cooker. “Is… is she alright? Did she sleep?”

Pearl knows she means Marina. “Yeah, she slept. She’s… not doing awful. She’s okay.”

“Which is it, not awful or okay?” Nessa presses, leaning over the counter. Pearl’s not sure if it’s just her thing for nice arms talking, but Nessa seems extra intimidating today. 

“Ain’t it the same difference? If she’s not okay now, you know she’ll be okay sometime.” Pearl looks at Nessa. “Whatever went down, I think she just needs some time, alright? M’not a doctor…” Nessa doesn’t respond, Lenn is looking down at her lap. Pearl dices half an onion in a more agitated fashion than usual, eyes burning even with the overhead fan on. 

“Thanks, kid,” Nessa says sheepishly. “For being there for her. I wish I—god damn, I should have known he would pull something like that on her…” 

Pearl still has no clue what happened, but she figures at this point it’s not her business to ask. “Of course,” she replies quietly. “Where else would I be?” 

“Alright, then,” Nessa leans back in her chair, decidedly done with the heavy mood, “Now what the _hell’s_ in a rice omelette?”

Pearl finds out that Nessa is genuinely interested in the recipe, so she explains the process she’s gone through so many times it’s like second nature. 

“My ma used to make it for me all the time, ‘cause I wouldn’t eat anything else,” Pearl snorts, “Magically somehow I ain’t sick of it yet.” 

The air quickly fills with the smell of onions cooking in butter. Halfway through making Lenn’s omelette, Pearl feels a light tug on the back of her head. The touch trails momentarily to the nape of her neck and disappears, Pearl turns to see Marina sitting in the chair next to Lenn at the counter.

“She wakes!” Nessa laughs. “MC here was teaching me the ways of ketchup-fried rice.”

Marina shakes her head. “I smelled the onions upstairs, it was too powerful to resist.”

“What is it again? _If only you knew the powah_ ,” Pearl wrinkles her nose in concentration as she flips the first finished omelette onto a plate—a skill requiring acute finesse—and Nessa laughs.

“She’s rubbing off on you. Dangerous, that’s too dangerous…”

“No, that was really good!” Marina claps. “Pearl, just drop your voice a little and you could run James Earl Jones out of business.” 

“Ohoho! That’ll be the fuckin day,” Pearl hands the plate to Marina over the counter.

“Hey! I call favoritism! That was mine,” Lenn complains. “I asked for extra cheese on it!”

“She likes cheese, too, huh, how about that?” Pearl makes a face at Lenn.

“But you _asked_ if I-” Lenn stops abruptly when Marina slides the plate over to her.

“ _Marina_ ,” Pearl groans. 

“You can put extra cheese on the next one,” she smiles at Pearl through her lashes, and Pearl falls back on her heels, begrudgingly taking another egg from the carton.

“You don’t mind waiting an extra sec?” Pearl asks Nessa. 

“Not at all,” she responds, off-balance in such a way that Marina glances at her for a moment, then back to Pearl. Nessa’s taking in everything they say to each other, every interaction, as only a protective older sibling could.

“Extra cheese,” Pearl murmurs as she lets liberal amounts of shredded sharp cheddar fall to the pan. She drags out the _eee_ sound.

Once omelettes are made and sufficiently packed with cheese, they sit at the counter and eat together.

“Houzuki, this shit’s the _bomb_ ,” Nessa says, mouth full and deadly serious.

“Thanks,” Pearl snorts.

“I think I’m gonna make you make this for us every day.”

“I’d be glad to negotiate wages with you anytime, Nessa,” Pearl stabs her egg with her fork. Besides Nessa’s periodic exclamations of appreciation, they eat quietly. Everyone seems a little bogged down, even in the freer Saturday morning atmosphere.

After everyone finishes their food, Pearl starts cleaning up the mess. Lenn and Nessa drift off, murmuring to each other about something that certainly isn’t Pearl’s business to eavesdrop in on. Marina doesn’t join them, she opts instead to help Pearl out with the dishes. She puts plates into the dishwasher and dries the skillet after Pearl’s done scrubbing off the caked-on bits of cheese. 

“You’re pretty good at this, for someone who has a housemaid to do it all for you,” Marina chuckles.

“Alri-ight,” Pearls settles back on her heels to shoot Marina a look, “Not too down to throw the snark at Pearl today, huh?” Marina bumps her shoulder, smile turning cheeky. “It’s cathartic, sometimes. And little-known-fact, most of the time I make my _own_ dinner... “ 

“Oh-hoh, fine, point taken,” Marina purses her lips, fitting the towel into the ridge between the lip of the pan and the jut of the handle. Very thorough. She snatches a glance at Pearl through her peripheral. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what? I’m looking at you like nothing. Like a normal person looks at another normal person.” Pearl smirks. 

Marina shakes her head, opening the cabinet to put the skillet away. Nessa and Lenn are too far away to hear them, and Pearl takes advantage of this by leaning into Marina, ghosting her fingers down Marina’s forearms until she reaches her hands. She guides Marina’s palms to mirror hers, loosely twining their fingers together. 

“Pearl,” Marina smiles bashfully, “They’re _right over there_ …” 

“Oh no, they might see us _holding hands_ ,” Pearl says goofily. “What is this, the fifties? They’re in the other room anyway, they won’t see.” Pearl lets go of her hands for a moment, to hop up and sit on the countertop. They’re at eye level, now; she cups Marina’s face. “You alright?” 

Marina closes her eyes, clasping her hands around Pearl’s wrists. She nuzzles into Pearl’s touch. That same furrow mark appears between her eyebrows.

“I think I’ll be alright,” she opens her eyes, smile twitching at the corner of her lip when she gazes at Pearl. 

“Cool,” Pearl raises her eyebrows. “I’ll always be here if you need me, though, got it?”

Marina hums against the palm of her hand, leaning in closer. 

“ _Woah_ ,” they hear Nessa exclaim, which breaks them from their own little world. They exchange a look. 

Upon further investigation, they find Nessa and Lenn In the dining room, sitting pressed against the wall. They appear to be peering through the double doors to the screened-in porch, where two silhouetted people sit at a table in the shade. 

“ _Guys_ ,” Nessa hisses. “ _Come on, over here_ —” Both she and Lenn beckon to them wildly, and they tiptoe over to press against the wall alongside them.

“The hell’s going on?” Pearl frowns.

Nessa holds a finger to her lips. “ _Whisper, MC. Whisper_.” 

Pearl rolls her eyes. “ _The hell’s going on_?” She whispers.

“ _The high council is interrogating_ ,” Lenn answers grimly. 

Marina reaches over Pearl to tap Nessa’s shoulder. “ _When did Yuma get here_?”

“This morning… I called her last night. She knew he was gonna be here, she couldn’t head him off,” she says lowly. 

Yuma is a name Pearl has only heard sparingly before; apparently she’s older than even Nessa, the true voice of reason of the house. Pearl always thought she was some kind of mythical enigma, the way Nessa talked about her. Marina had said that’s because the two of them are supposedly really close; Pearl thinks she really doesn’t understand Nessa at all. Looking past Lenn and Nessa, Pearl observes the court in session.

She supposes the woman sitting with her back to them is Yuma. From what Pearl can make out, she’s thin and her posture is stiff, her hair pulled into an equally stiff bun right in the middle of the back of her head. Her voice is thin, too, from the murmurings Pearl can catch. Quiet. She does not seem like someone who would be close to Nessa, of all people.

From their vantage point, Pearl can also get a better view of Octavio. He’s sitting to the side of the table, slouched back in his chair. She tries to balance watching Octavio’s behaviors and feeling Marina’s reactions to them. Marina loops her arm through Pearl’s, but when Pearl looks back at her, her expression is stone, flat. It’s not anger, but it’s certainly not joy. Pearl feels as though she’s been let directly into the center of something she should not be a part of. 

She glances back to Octavio when Lenn and Nessa’s whisperings quiet down in front of them. The more she watches him, her head tilts, she feels her lips tilt into a little smile. His foot taps on the ground. Pearl has a better view of his face, since he’s partially facing them; his brow turns down further at something Yuma says, he leans forward and his face twists minutely as he shoots his response right back in her face. When she easily dismantles this display, he narrows his eyes and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing out the screen window childishly. Yuma is looking at him, and silence hangs between them. 

Marina jostles her arm. “ _What are you laughing at_?”

Pearl turns around and looks at Marina, the small frown on her face; she looks back to Octavio, sitting petulantly. She shakes her head. “ _Nothing. Don’t worry about it._ ” 

Marina narrows her eyes, and Pearl’s smile loses its bite. Pearl is learning all kinds of new Marina things today. 

“ _Oh, shit_ ,” Nessa curses, “ _we gotta scatter, guys, looks like they’re done._ ” 

They’re all about to scramble to their feet when the screen door slides open faster than they could have imagined possible.

“Nessa,” Yuma says, and they all stop in their tracks. Her voice is as pale as her face, Pearl thinks; she looks tired, above all else. Nessa, who’s already halfway to the stairs, turns around and grins brightly.

“Yes, dearest?”

Yuma closes her eyes for a moment. “Come out here, please. We need to talk.” She opens her eyes. “And Urena, get off of the floor.” 

“Alrighty,” Nessa exhales, stepping over Lenn, who’s lying flat on the floor, to get to the screen door. Lenn lifts her head and her expression displays utmost distaste. 

Pearl raises her eyebrows at her. “ _Urena_?” She mouths.

“If you even dare,” Lenn holds up a threatening finger. “I will _destroy_ you.” 

Pearl laughs. A learning experience, indeed. Marina stands up at her spot pressed against the wall—she had not partaken in the emergency exodus—and steps over both Pearl and Lenn, settling down at the bench in front of the piano. The screen door slides shut with a snap behind Yuma and Nessa. 

“You should be out there with them,” Lenn stares up at Marina from her spot on the floor. Her voice is hard and serious.

“No,” Marina sighs. “I’d rather not.” 

“I don’t think it matters what you’d _rather_ anymore,” Lenn sits up, glaring. “You know what he’s… you know he won’t bother about this when he—!”

“ _Lenn_ ,” Marina says, and it’s bottom-line, it’s serious, because Lenn shuts right up and Pearl swallows nervously. “I’d rather not,” she repeats, softer. Pearl exhales, Lenn looks down at her lap. They can hear Nessa and Yuma talking outside, the same murmur from before, none of their words completely discernable. 

Marina sits up, plucking up a box sitting on top of the piano, an old foggy plastic container. “Pearl, c’mere.” 

Pearl obeys, plopping down on the bench next to Marina. She pops the lid off of the box and lets Pearl peer inside.

“Woah,” she chuckles. 

“Almost the whole collection. I have a few more upstairs… I just realized I keep forgetting to show you, and you’re here now, so… “ she trails off, and Pearl picks through the box. It’s full of old metal toy parts, little springs and tiny gears, and a multitude of small, naked music box mechanisms. 

“You weren’t kidding, god, you’ve got a _ton_ ,” Pearl picks out a music box and winds it up; it still works, playing a sweet little metallic tune. 

“Can I see?” Lenn asks, pulling her knees to her chest. Pearl holds the little thing out to her, and she takes it gingerly, watching the metal cylinder turn as the song runs its course. 

“I haven’t gone through this since, um,” Marina chuckles. “Last year, I guess?” 

Pearl smiles. Last year was getting to know Marina, last year was sharing the same table in Earth Science, being lab partners and making Marina laugh even though she got so annoyed because Pearl wasn’t helping her finish the lab. “God, what a wreck.” 

Marina slings her arm around Pearl’s neck, suddenly forgetting the shadow that had passed over her. “Aw, come on! Don’t be such a downer!” 

It’s nice to hear her laugh again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last week of quarantine has been a mind-melting back and forth of "should i post this?" "no. I'll wait until... but??" "RRGH" so i figured, fuck it! what else is corn teen good for if not supplying a monumental amount of time to spend finally going over words you wrote a month ago... for a holiday that happened almost two months ago.. 
> 
> on a lighter note! i'm really happy i was able to actually pull together and continue a story-like thing, it's a step out of my comfort zone because i usually stick to oneshots around 1.5k words... and i think the last time i posted something over 2 chapters was like... two or three years ago lol
> 
> anyways, in the *ahem* current state of our world right now, schedules mystify me, but the next chapters should be out soon enough. I'll keep posted on my twitter, find me @ octatronica ... usually i'm shouting into the void about like, food or something lol
> 
> thanks for reading!! :D


	2. Theodore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka the ridiculous dialogue chapter...

Last Valentine’s Day’s gift was the world’s largest teddy bear. Pearl, lady of the hunt, had scoured stores across the suburban sprawl of shopping complexes in search of the largest teddy bear money could buy, with tape measure and notebook in hand to mark heights and...  _ levels of softness _ .

“Really?” Pearl looked from the little chart in the notebook to her two accomplices that had organized it. Macey and Lenn were her henchmen on this quest; Lenn because she had special input as a person who lived with Marina, and Macey because Lenn wanted her to come; she agreed to function as scorekeeper… and apparently faux fur softness expert.

“It’s important! You can’t just give her a crusty bear, Pearl,” Macey argued. They lasted about a moment before Lenn snorted, which sent them both laughing. 

“You guys are nuts,” Pearl grumbled, biting back her own smile. 

“ _ We’re _ nuts!” Lenn wiped her eyes. “ _ You’re  _ buying your wife a giant teddy bear.” 

“She ain’t my wife,” Pearl snapped. “And last time I checked,  _ we _ were buying her a giant teddy bear.”

They eventually found the floppiest, softest teddy bear at a towering height of four feet. It was meant to be: at the end of their journey, after searching a mind-numbing six shopping centers, notebook full of stuffed animal dimensions, softness levels and voice box messages (rated from comedic to blindingly nauseating), they happened upon a small display decorated with pink and red cardboard and white doilies shaped like hearts. Sitting proudly in the center of chocolate boxes and bottles of grape juice packaged like wine was the largest bear the three of them had ever seen. It had no voice box and no cutesy pink outfit, it was simply a monumental stuffed teddy. 

Macey, softness tester supreme, reached for the bear’s arm, and after a gasp, laid her head blissfully upon its fluffy tummy. 

“ _ This is the softest fella I ever did see _ ,” she murmured, her glasses crushing off-kilter as she squished further into the stuffed animal. 

“Can I get a cheeseburger now?” Lenn groaned.

Pearl admired the bear with her hands on her hips. It kept on smiling its shy little grin down at her. He was indeed, fluffy and soft as a bear could be. 

“He’s the one,” Pearl nodded. “And of course we’re getting burgers, you don’t even need to ask.”

“Can I get nugs?” Macey asked, still hugging the plush tummy. 

“No. It’s decided. This bear. Cheeseburgers.” Pearl nodded serenely. 

“In that order?”

“In any order it takes,” Pearl kept the act up. “Soldiers! Carry that teddy to the checkout, stat!” 

“Yessir!” Macey gripped the incredibly soft monster and hauled it off the shelf, Lenn spotting her and shouting directions as they maneuvered to the registers.

One week later, Pearl stood at the bike rack outside the diner, trying to make sure the bear stayed safely upright on the tiny seat of Marina’s bike. On Saturdays, Marina went in early to help open up and serve the breakfast rush—mostly truckers stopping by for a rest from the highway and old folks from the assisted living home across the street—and she usually made it out by lunch. She put in her hours and avoided the overwhelming lunch rush, so it was a win in her book.

Pearl waited patiently, watching the side door. The smell of whatever was being fried in the kitchen taunted her hungry stomach as the door finally swung open and Marina stepped out, pulling her coat on over her shoulders. Pearl played aloof until Marina finished buttoning her jacket and decided to look up. She came to a full stop at the top of the stairs, gaze drifting back and forth between Pearl and the bear. 

“Heya, pretty lady like you shouldn't be goin’ about all by your lonesome… how ‘bout I walk you home?” Pearl tried for her best nineteen-fifties gentlemanly tone without letting the bear fall. Marina closed her eyes, and Pearl watched her struggle between laughing and hiding her face in her hands. She eventually settled for both, reaching up to massage her forehead with a bashful grin on her face.

“Pearl?” she asked, voice slipping on an incredulous exhale.

“Yeh?” 

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?” Pearl frowned.

“That, on my bike?” Marina pointed to the bear. 

“Sorry, you’re gonna have to point out a little closer, I got no clue what you’re talking about.” Pearl watched Marina dubiously as she stepped down the stairs, and across the cracked-pavement parking lot to the bike rack. 

“Who,” Marina flicked the bear’s ear, “is this fine fellow sitting on my bike?”

“Huh?” Pearl turned and gasped minutely, a noise of blatant discovery. “Ohh, see, this here’s my buddy Theodore.”

Marina closed her eyes, smiling.

“You know, Theodore? He and his pal were havin’ some rough goes of it, so he needed a day off…” Pearl patted his stomach. “And so I told him about you and he,” she leaned in, presumably so Theodore couldn’t hear, “he totally wanted to meet you...I think he might be catching feelings, y’know?”

“Pearl,” Marina opened her eyes again.

“No, no, you gotta hear this, his pal Billy’s been shovin’ a real wedge in their friendship lately, Ted’s really upset—”

“ _ Pearl _ ,” Marina repeated, and Pearl paused, splitting into a grin.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she said quietly, “You walnut.”

“Theodore’s mine?” Marina laughed.

“A hundred percent,” Pearl nodded, flashing a winning smirk. She leaned back, presumably to leave the bear with some last parting advice. “ _ I’d warn ya, though, she can be a little touchy-feely sometimes _ —”

“ _ Pearl. _ ”

“Could I still walk you home?” Pearl put on her gentlemanly airs again. Sadly she didn’t have time to get a crisp suit and pressed pants, so jeans and an old band tee under her jacket would have to suffice.

“If you stop talking like that, sure,” Marina stepped around her. “I actually thought you were kidding, about the gift.” She chuckled, turning the combination on the chain to unlock her bike, “You take Theodore, then we can go wherever.”

“Lunch?” Pearl batted her eyelashes. “My treat?”

“Anywhere to escape the smell of old grease,” Marina shuddered. 

It was the kind of winter day where the sky was one big, blank, white void; fresh, powdery snow from the previous night’s snowfall hugged up against the curbs, not yet dirtied from kicked-up road grime. Since the bear was nearly the same size as Pearl, Marina used her bike chain to strap the big guy to the bike; with his cute little snout smushed against the handlebar, Marina walked him along. 

While they waited for their food to come out, they watched people walk by Marina’s bike through the cafe’s window, snickering at the various reactions to the huge stuffed bear. 

“D’you think someone will steal it?” Marina asked, sipping tea. She secured both of her hands around the smooth, warm mug each time she lifted it to take a sip. 

“It’s in plain sight, probably not,” Pearl smiled. “Why in the hell would somebody want a giant ass teddy bear like that, anyway?” 

“You never know!” Marina grinned, in the tell-tale fashion that usually preceded her odd habit to argue in favor of a particularly far-fetched topic. “There’ve been more outlandish crimes before…” 

“Oh really? Humor me,” Pearl leaned over the table, shoving another forkful of cheesy omelette into her mouth. She’d be glad to hear where Marina was going to take this one. 

“Once over the radio I heard a man stole sixty-six rolls of toilet paper and a peacock from a resort in some foreign country.”

“Both? At the same time? I mean, stealing a peacock, okay, you do you I guess, but why the toilet paper?” 

“To wrap the peacock,” Marina nodded. 

Pearl’s head dipped; she laughed hopelessly, like she was about to cry. 

“What? You can’t just smuggle an unwrapped peacock…” Marina squeezed her eyes shut, chuckling lightly. 

“Oh, of course,” Pearl leaned back into her chair. “How could I have not known that totally obvious thing that everybody knows?” 

“I’m not sure,” Marina shook her head, clicking her tongue. “This is essential knowledge, if you’re planning on smuggling exotic birds.” 

“Tell you what,” Pearl crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll be sure to give you a call if I ever get the urge to do... that.” 

“Good. A reliable source of information is always helpful to have.” Marina sipped her tea, smile lingering on her lips. She wasn’t looking at anything in particular; Pearl’s foot started tapping under the table. The server brought Marina’s food out and Pearl watched her turn and thank him sweetly, watched the color flush to his cheeks as he nodded with a smile and turned to head back to the kitchen.  _ Some kind of magician _ , Pearl thought absently. They just had the stupidest conversation in the history of the world, not the first and certainly not the last in a continuous string of stupid conversations they’ve shared before… and she could still pull out the charm…  _ does she even realize it _ ? 

Pearl wondered how many of the football or lacrosse guys would love to be sitting where she was, right then. It made some sort of pride balloon in her chest. 

“Are you okay?” Marina asked.

“What?” Pearl sat up, broken from her moment. 

She took a bite of her sandwich, continuing with her mouth full. “Yuh’ gwarin’ a’me.”

“I,” Pearl snorted. “I’m fine. That’s just how I look. Scare away the meatheads, right?”

Marina covered her mouth to laugh. “Oh, yef’. Totally.” 

While Marina unlocked her bike and Theodore from the rack outside the cafe, Pearl caught sight of something, a small glint of metal in Marina’s coat pocket. “What’s that?” She tilted her head. 

“Hm?” Marina frowned, and Pearl nodded to her pocket, where the shiny thing was about to fall out. 

“Oh,” Marina reached down to shove whatever it was back into her pocket. “It’s nothing.”

“No it isn’t,” Pearl pressed. “Show me?”

“No, Pearl.”

“Please?”

“No,” Marina seemed to be weighing her options. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, but whatever. I’ll show you later.”

“Why not now?” Pearl frowned.

“No!” Marina laughed, edging on irritation. “Have some patience, will you?”

“Patience is my middle name,” Pearl assured. “But can I see it now anyway?”

“No.” 

“Please?”

“No.”

“ _ Please? _ ” Pearl dragged the word out. 

“Pearl  _ Patience _ Houzuki?” Marina snapped, and Pearl scoffed heartily.

“Fine.” 

They trekked out of the center of town, through snow-blanketed neighborhoods, crossing the street where the sidewalk crumbled off into the gravelly driveway to Outpost Park. Standing in the gravel, under where the road behind them stretched into a bridge, the normally-rushing stream was silent, well-frozen over the rocks below. The skeleton of the ancient water mill smack in the middle of where the stream usually flowed strongest sported disrepair; crushed soda cans and sun-bleached cellophane snack bags were pillowed on dirty snow and layers of leaves fell from trees. 

The park itself was a relic, just a few square miles short of a nature preserve; it was a stretched-out, backwards sort of place that was never really crowded, even on a warm day. In winter, around Christmastime, the landowner hung lights over the trees and about the hibernating flower beds in front, the huge evergreen by the main house dressed from head to toe in glittering bulbs. The park stretched over a big hill, in the back by the stream the gravel drive stretched up all the way to the top, the peak, passing by a spread-out old playground with creaking swings and rusted monkey bars. Old charcoal grills stuck out of the ground at odd angles, crusted with grime and bits of trash stuffed under their grates. 

Pearl and Marina started up the hill, leaving Marina’s bike and Theodore by the splintered water wheel at the base of the gravel drive. A crisp layer of snow blanketed the ground and adorned the naked branches of the old, wise maples and oaks standing tall along the hillside.

“If you throw a single snowball at me, you’d better be ready for war, understand?” Marina issued her sole warning before they started up the hill. 

“Understood, ma’am,” Pearl said cheekily, dipping her head when Marina narrowed her eyes at her.

“When d’you have to be home by?” Marina asked later, while they had stopped halfway up the hill to rest, at the monkey bars. 

Pearl shrugged. The bars were certainly too cold for bare skin to stand touching, not that that would stop Marina from climbing up and plopping her pretty butt on top anyway. Not that her butt was pretty. Not that it  _ wasn’t _ pretty, either—her butt was fine. A fine butt… well-shaped...nobody could hear this internal argument Pearl was having with herself. 

“No curfew?” Marina raised her eyebrows.

Pearl stood on the second to bottom bar, staying safe and keeping close to the ground. She shrugged again. “Dad’s happy if I come home alive at some point. Barely see him anyway, why should he give a shit?”

Marina blinked, obviously taken aback by something. “Because you’re… his kid?” 

Pearl snorted, a little  _ huh _ , “I’m my ma’s kid, Reena—”

“—Don’t call me that—”

“—My dad, I feel like he still thinks I’m like, five…”

“Certainly shouldn’t if he lets you stay out until whenever,” Marina mumbled. “Where is your mom, anyway?”

“She’s in Japan,” Pearl said; Marina’s eyes went wide; she moved forward over the monkey bars to lean in closer. 

“ _ Japan? _ Really?”

Pearl laughed lightly. “Yeah, really… my sisters’n brother are there too.”

“Why aren’t you with them? Don’t you want to visit?”

“Eh,” Pearl frowned. “I wanted to stay. I’ve spent more time here, ‘s what I’m used to. My sister, though, think she’s coming back soon…gonna go to med school or some shit,” she snorted.

Marina raised her eyebrows. “Wow. That’s hard stuff.” 

“Uh huh,” Pearl shook her head. “Not like I give a damn, she can die in a ditch for all I care…”

When she hadn’t received the amused noise of agreement she’d been expecting, Pearl glanced up at Marina. She was looking at her oddly, like her stomach had gone sour. 

“What?”

“How could you say something like that?” Marina asked, so earnestly it threw Pearl off guard. 

“Because I hate her, she’s really bitchy,” Pearl’s brow furrowed.

“But,” Marina looked like she couldn’t process what words Pearl was saying, “How, how can you—she’s your sister?”

“Aaand she’s a bitch. Never been nice to me. Always got her nose shoved up in the air and shit.”

Marina couldn’t identify the disconnect between them. “You—” 

“And like, I get it, she’s the favorite because she’s hecka smart and I’m dumb as rocks, whatever, I play in a metal band and that ain’t medical school or even a lousy diploma but it’s fun and that’s all I care,” Pearl had not expected this conversation to come up so soon between them.

“Pearl, you’re not dumb,” Marina said softly. “You’re not stupid, book work and equations just aren’t your strong suit.”

“Easy for you to say, though, mega-brain—” Pearl faltered when Marina snorted, eyes narrowing. “—Sorry, but not like you do any work to get a hundred on every test, you're just a freakin’ genius, right?”

Marina’s face flushed. “You think—Who said that?” 

“Like, everyone?” Pearl chuckled bitterly. “You seriously haven’t noticed?”

“Apparently I’ve been too busy getting perfect scores effortlessly to notice,” Marina’s voice was irritatingly even, dangerously so. Pearl realized belatedly that she was on eggshells. 

Marina softened, realizing her own pettiness. “And, I... tests aren’t everything, Pearl.” 

“Stop making it sound so easy.” Regardless, Pearl kept on. “Because it’s not easy. Not everyone can be Little-Miss-Perfect like you.”

Marina was very quiet. “I know it’s not easy.” Pearl swallowed at her tone; something low in her chest. Something raw. Pearl realized she might have poked at an old wound. “But you know what makes it easier?” She sat up. “Oh, hm, I don’t know… keeping an open mind? Following directions? Actually making an effort, instead of  _ sticking my nose in the air _ and complaining about the geniuses of the world, whining about how unfair everything is when I have a lovely private home to return to and an affluent family I know will be there for me when I need them? Yeah, Pearl, you’re right, it  _ is _ hard.” 

She pushed off the monkey bars and the snow softened her landing. She stormed up the hill without turning her back once.

Pearl swallowed, watched her go. Dumbstruck. Off-balance. She’d never really seen Marina upset like that before—at least not directed at her. She looked down at the snow until little white pills of light danced along her vision, and blinked hard. She looked back the way they came; the bike and Theodore were too far out of sight. Pearl swayed backwards, stepped off the monkey bars. They had already made it up about halfway, and Marina was just reaching the top, slipping out of Pearl’s line of sight. 

What a stupid thing to argue about. What a stupid thing to  _ complain _ about. Suddenly, stupid became the word of the day, because Pearl felt  _ stupid _ . Buying the bear, buying lunch, acting like she’s such a good friend, when all she’d done today was needle and tease Marina, think of her like a personal trophy that nobody else had.

Many years of social isolation had trained the vulnerable little jumble of negativity inside her into silence. She’d kind of forgotten that it hurt to argue with someone she loved. Not that she  _ loved _ Marina. Not that she  _ didn’t _ love Marina. 

She started slowly up after her, guaranteeing some alone time between them. She took the time to think. She’d only been to Marina’s house once or twice; she had three sisters, none of whom Pearl knew very well, besides Lenn. She used to live with her uncle, but moved away once her oldest sisters were old enough to legally take care of them. Lenn was purposefully obnoxious because she liked to irritate people, Marina especially. But Marina loved her anyway, called her  _ butterscotch _ because she knew Lenn hated it, but couldn’t resist getting her own kicks in where she could. 

Pearl realized, besides the diner and the small window that was Lenn, she barely knew Marina. How much more stupid could she be, making assumptions so quickly like that… sure, her own relationship with her siblings was fucked sideways, but that didn’t mean everyone else was the same… Pearl decided she hated this. She hated feeling so close to and so far away from someone at the same time. And it was just some petty little argument… 

The chill air nipped at her bare skin, the wintry smell of the great February outdoors not as inviting as it had been before. She trudged up the hill, thighs burning with the effort of traversing the incline. After what felt like centuries of basking in her own slimy shame, Pearl reached the top.

Far away were the mountains, rising protectively above the curving lines of houses that formed neighborhoods over the valley beneath them. The monotonous sky made the snow-white world feel like sepia. Pearl looked around, searching over gentle slopes of snow for Marina’s forest-green coat, the color that matched the evergreens rising sparsely from the ground around them. 

She caught sight of her eventually, situated in the snow next to one of the old fountains. Pearl remembered a time when she’d grab at tadpoles in the waters of those fountains, water that spewed from a child’s sculpted umbrella or a cherub’s fingertip and landed in the ivory pool; but the pipes had stopped working properly years ago, and the pool beneath was filled with leaves and trash. Snow covered up the neglect. Pearl wobbled on tired legs to where Marina sat, collapsing down into the snow just opposite her. Lying on her side, Pearl looked up at her.

Marina’s legs were crossed, the soles of her boots muddy from the path. Melting clumps of snow stuck to her legs. In her hands was a little metal toy shaped like a school bus she appeared to be tinkering with, a mini screwdriver in her other hand.

“So, what, you just got a toolbox with you anywhere you go?” She tried for humor, but it fell horribly flat. Pearl watched Marina’s eyebrows rise for a moment, but she didn’t say a thing in reply. 

Pearl had no idea what Marina was doing, but bothering her from it proved less than beneficial; she watched Marina work. She twisted the screwdriver with a delicate hand until something on the bottom of the bus popped loose, a cheap plastic panel painted yellow. Marina gently pried the piece free, and Pearl saw it had some little mechanism stuck to it. Marina shoved the now-empty shell of the toy and the screws she had twisted out into her pocket, along with the screwdriver.

Pearl’s gaze shifted from Marina’s patient fingers to her face. She was close enough to catch each little tiny movement of her dark eyes over the toy she was taking apart. She could see Marina’s thoughts traveling a million miles a second, the busywork merely a distraction for her hands. Even so, she didn’t look angry. Only focused, concentrated. 

Pearl licked her chapped lips. The freezing snow pinched numbness at her cheek, through the thinner fabric of her pants. She could fall asleep, and possibly get frostbite on her nose. She couldn’t be sure that Marina wouldn’t leave her there. 

Messing with something Pearl couldn’t immediately see, Marina was able to pull the panel free of whatever mechanical guts she had pried out of the bus; it was shortly sent to her coat pocket as well. She twisted a small knob sticking out of the mechanical guts until it clicked, and Pearl realized as she wound it up a little more, it was a music box. 

The bumpy cylinder turned slowly along its axis, little metal tabs hitting each bump to form a sweet, tinny little tune. The void of air around them seemed to suck the sound up and absorb it. Marina held the thing out for her to see. 

Pearl forced herself up, propped on her elbows. Her hand hovered gingerly near the music box, she lifted it gently from the palm of Marina’s hand. 

“What,” Pearl’s voice rasped, and she coughed to clear it. “What song’s it playing?” 

Marina shook her head. “It’s just the first one I saw on the shelf... I took it without investigating.” 

The music box began to slow, the sweet tune growing melancholy as it dragged to a grudging stop.

“You could get that diploma, you know,” Marina said. “And do the band, too.” 

Pearl wound it up again, purposefully finding it very interesting so she didn’t have to look Marina in the eye. 

“All you have to do is actually apply yourself, Pearl. You’re not stupid, and both of us know it.” 

Pearl stared at the music box. Marina didn’t say another thing, even after the tune wore itself out again and the eerily still winter air created a void of the silence between them. 

“The thing is, I don’t have to,” Pearl licked her lips. She sounded over the words like she was in elementary school, reading out loud from a book. “I, my dad… I have money supporting me until I’m in the ground dead, Marina, I could be in a coma or brain dead or have cancer and need expensive treatment forever and that wouldn’t change. I can just do whatever the hell I want… what other kid can say that?” She sat up, flicking snow out of her hair. She looked down at the little music box in her hand, and handed it back to Marina. 

“I’m, sorry,” she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, for being narrow. I have a lot that I take for granted.” She wanted to say so much more, but her throat was tight. Apologies were not her strong suit. 

Marina took the music box, and set it on her knee. 

“I accept your apology,” Marina said, leaning to one side to try and meet Pearl’s eyes. “And, you’re not narrow.”

“Then the hell you call the shit I said down there?” She turned angrily, finally meeting Marina’s gaze with a scowl.

“I think, you don’t have a direction, and it makes you upset.” 

Pearl nodded, arms crossed. “Oh, okay, I see, Therapist Marina’s in the house now?” 

Marina smiled, head dipping in laughter. “You like your freedom, but that’s all you have.” 

“Thanks, send the note to my doctor, they’ll have me on idiot pills by next week.” Pearl shook her head. Marina didn’t respond as quickly as Pearl had expected; she dropped her arms and the attitude and scooted closer. Marina was running her thumb across the plastic base of the music box. “What, did I say something dumb again?” 

“No, no,” Marina chuckled. “I just… “ She looked up at the sky, lips pursed. “It’s really nice up here, don’t you think?” 

Pearl smiled. Marina still looked nervous about something. “...Yeah. I come up here all the time… Usually don’t take the long way, though.” 

“Must be nice in the springtime.”

“It is,” Pearl watches Marina’s fingers tap against her knee. “All the flowers bloom and everything starts turning green again. It looks more, overgrown than… dead.” 

“Do people have weddings here?” 

Pearl smiled, brow furrowed. “I—dunno?” 

“A wedding up here would be nice. In the spring, or summer.” 

“Marina?” Pearl asked. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Are you betrothed?”

“What?” Marina laughed, “No, what the hell… I’m just, I’m not allowed to think out loud here?”

“Well, I mean, sure you are, but why is wedding your first go-to topic? Can we go back to toilet paper and peacocks, please?” Pearl placed her hand to her chest. 

Marina hid her face in her hands. “Oh god, whatever,” she seemed to have steeled herself past her nerves. “Pearl, my sisters and I do this movie night thing every Friday, we rent out a movie and buy some snacks and we all sit together and watch, it’s this bonding experience, because Nessa’s super gung-ho on the importance of familial bonding, and, yesterday she had to work late so we moved it to tonight instead.”

Pearl blinked. “Okay, again, but a little slower this time?” 

“Pearl, you heard me.” Marina gave her a flat look. “I am not going to repeat that.” 

“I get to meet the family? So soon?” Pearl placed a finger to her bottom lip. “What’s next? Engagement? Are we getting married here, Reena?” 

“You know what? Never mind. I rescind my offer, also I never want to see you again,” Marina carefully placed the music box in her other pocket and started off down the opposite side of the hill, to the front of the property. 

Pearl hoisted to her feet, smiling. “Aw, come on, sweetums! What flowers d’you want, lilies or tulips? Irises? Ooh! How about roses, very romantic…” 

“Don’t talk to me!” Marina called over her shoulder.

“Hey, your bike’s the other way, though!” Pearl skidded through snow to catch up with Marina. “You really want me to come watch a movie with you guys?”

Marina exhaled deeply. “Unless you have other plans? Screaming your lungs out in an empty warehouse, perchance?”

“Nah, band practice is next week, the guys are on some trip right now,” Pearl caught her breath.

“Of course,” Marina tossed up her hand. “How could I have forgotten.” 

“I don’t know, I mean, you should know my schedule by heart if our wedding is gonna happen before the year is out…”

“Oh, shut up,” Marina chuckled, shaking her head.

Pearl turned around, walking backwards in front of Marina with a star-studded grin. “So… you really,  _ really _ want me to come?”

“Don’t push it,” Marina’s expression flattened. “Maybe you should start on the idiot pills before I let you into my house.” 

“Oh, I’ll get right on that,” Pearl tripped on a rock jutting out of the snow, hands flying out of her pockets as she stumbled back down the slope of the hill. “ _ Shit _ —”

“Woah!” Marina jumped forward to try and catch her, but Pearl caught herself at the trunk of the huge evergreen, puffing out her cheeks in cautious relief as she exhaled. “Are you okay?” 

“Oh yeah, great…” Pearl patted the tree. “Totally metal.” 

“Maybe I should contact your pharmacist,” Marina flicked Pearl’s forehead as she walked past, down to the sidewalk they’d taken to first get to the park. “This might be more serious than we thought…”

“Bah!” Pearl shouted behind her, just to hear Marina laugh. 

——

  
  


“Wait… damn, Marina, you know what I just realized?” Pearl bopped the heel of her hand to her forehead. “We totally just left your man Theodore to die down there.”

“Oh god!” Marina exclaimed. “We’re terrible parents!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAA sorry this took so long to finish up... chapter 3 might take another hot sec bc I'll be working on pearlina week prompts, for the week of june 21st! 
> 
> check meowt on twit.... @ octatronica (i rt cool art and post splat/acnh clips every so often... I also occasionally post fic updates!)


	3. Tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As per tradition, Pearl tags along with Marina for the weekly Friday movie night. While the livelihood of femurs are threatened, new lines are drawn in Pearl and Marina's relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this. uh. this is a chapter..... 
> 
> a little more self indulgent than the prev. two.... ahehe....

Pearl feels foggy, heat still rising from the bubbly peaks settled over the bath water. This morning, Pearl had rolled out of bed and decided she’d like to turn herself to a pile of human mush, so she ran the bath water as hot as it would go, dumping in half a bottle of kids’ bubble bath (half because it smelled like fruit and half because it made the best bubbles).

That was a few hours ago. Right now, she’s busying herself humming into the bathwater and causing ripples when she hears the front door open and close— _ feels _ it, rather, in the way the floor sort of shakes as it slams. The baritone of her father’s voice snips in and out. She sinks a little lower into the water when she hears footsteps shuffle along the hallway past her bathroom door. As if whoever it is could see her through the wall. She mentally files quickly through a list of people who her father could have allowed upstairs without yelling to warn her first, but this pressing worry is solved when she hears a voice tentatively call out.

“Pearl?”

It’s Marina, and Pearl’s whole body sighs, letting the sudden tension unwind.

“In here, darling,” she replies, eyes sliding shut. She hears the doorknob rattle as Marina’s hand lands on it.

“Are you decent?”

“I’m naked and vulnerable,” Pearl raises her voice to a higher pitch, playing damsel. 

“I can wait here,” Marina responds flatly. 

“ _ Noo _ , come in, I’m just in the bathtub,” Pearl leans over the edge of the tub, as if Marina could see her pleading. She thinks for a moment, and settles back into the water. “But I’m covered in bubbles. Sensitive areas are covered. In bubbles.”

The door cracks open, and Marina’s head pokes in, her eyes narrowed. She glances around, suspicious.

“Pinky swear,” Pearl smiles. Marina looks at her. “Double pinky swear?”

“I believe you,” Marina says, sounding almost affronted. “I just didn’t know if you’d be comfortable with me in here.”

“I’m comfy if you’re comfy,” Pearl stretches her arms.

“You’re the one who’s naked,” the sliver of Marina that Pearl can see raises her eyebrows.

“Just get in here,” Pearl chuckles, eyes falling shut. 

“But you’re not _ wearing  _ anything _ — _ ”

“ _ Marina _ . Bubbles. Did I remind you about the bubbles?” She opens her eyes, her arm falling to splash water and a clump of grape-scented bubbles over the side of the tub. 

“I mean, if you’re sure you’re okay…”

“How about this, if you keep standing there in the doorway and needling me I’m going to get out of the tub to seriously hurt you and  _ then _ there won’t be any bubbles covering my boobs,” Pearl glares at the wall across from her, and she hears Marina laugh lightly.

“Just making sure,” she offers, voice soft. She slips into the room, quietly closing the door shut behind her. Immediately, she tugs at the collar of her shirt, mouth falling open. 

“It’s so hot in here… and I thought you said that was a  _ bathtub _ , not a  _ hot _ tub, lord!” 

“It’s like you've never met me before, jacuzzi is the only form of bathtub,” Pearl’s head falls back to rest against the wall, self-satisfied grin on her face.

Marina sits down against the wall next to her, looking straight ahead. They stare at the toilet; it sports old, peeling Minnie Mouse stickers. 

Pearl explains before Marina gets the chance to ask. “I was five. I was mad. Minnie stickers were abused.” 

“I’m not judging… looks like she’s seen the rough of it, though…” Marina chuckles; some of the stickers are faded and peeling. 

“More than Mickey can say,” Pearl’s smile softens. She wants to sit up to look at Marina, but then the bubbles wouldn’t be much of a help anymore. Instead she watches Marina’s arm, settled on the wall of the tub.

“I don’t think your dad likes me,” Marina purses her lips.

“He probably doesn’t.” Pearl blinks, realizes Marina’s turned to give her a hard look. “ _ What _ ? I ain't lying.”

“You’re supposed to reassure me! Say ‘oh no Marina, you’re just overreacting!’ or something…”

“Well, that’d be a lie! He never likes the girls I date.” Marina is silent, and Pearl panics for a moment, “Not! Not that you’re just, not like, you—ah, shit, I didn’t mean that like I don’t—”

Marina leans in and kisses her cheek. “It’s alright. I know how famous you are.”

Maybe the heat from the bathtub is finally getting to Pearl’s head.

“It’s so muggy in here, why don’t you just shower instead?” Marina puffs her cheeks and exhales. 

“Wouldn’t be any less muggy if I showered,” Pearl snorts. Marina’s sock feet tap on the tile floor, purposefully angled away from her. Pearl smiles. “Y’know I’m gonna get out soon, you really don't have to be in here if it makes you uncomfy.”

“No, I—it’s okay, I just,” Marina stumbles a little and Pearl leans up to the edge of the tub.

“Maybe, you can close your eyes? I don’t wanna make you feel bad,” her voice drops because she’s close to Marina’s ear, she watches her laugh, clipped.

“I don’t feel bad, you’re not making me feel bad. I’ll close my eyes.” She swallows. 

“You sure?” Pearl shoves down her laughter and sets her finger under Marina’s chin.

“I, ah… yeah,” Marina says, quiet at Pearl’s touch. “This is better.”

Pearl pauses. “You  _ sure _ ?” Marina laughs, shaking her head. “Look at me.” Marina exhales and allows Pearl to guide her so they’re facing each other. 

“You’re getting out soon?” Marina’s voice just barely wobbles. 

“Yeah. What movie you wanna watch tonight?” 

“Well, Lenn said she wanted to watch West Side Story again, but I—” Pearl kisses her chastely, once, and pulls back to look at her. Marina’s head nods forward a little, like she’s close to falling asleep. “I,I… wanted to watch…”

“We’re not watching Star Wars.”

Marina smiles. “But it’s the best!”

“Yeah, sure, and we’ve seen it a hundred, billion, million times and all you do is talk over all the lines cause you’ve got the whole dang script memorized…” 

“Ok, ok, what about… Stargate—”

“Nuh-uh. Anything with star in the title is off limits”

“But I’ve never even shown you that one!” She laughs. 

“Gonna be honest, Marina, I really think it’s better that way.” Pearl watches Marina’s hand gingerly rise up the edge of the tub, Pearl takes her wrist and guides her palm to her cheek, chuckling. “What is this, blind roleplay?” 

With one hand settled, Marina brings her other hand up to cup Pearl’s face. “Shut up,” she says, leaning forward and kissing her. Fortunately, one doesn’t need their eyes open to kiss.

Pearl’s hands come to Marina’s jaw, she lets Marina ease towards her and her arms loop slowly around Marina’s neck, pulling bubbly water over the evergreen fabric of her shirt.

“Mm, my shirt, ‘s wet—” Marina mutters between them. 

“Fuck your shirt,” Pearl murmurs, and the vibration of that might’ve set something off, because Marina presses closer, pushes Pearl back slightly from the edge of the tub. Pearl’s arms loosen; Marina doesn’t usually take so much initiative, and letting herself be drawn along for once is sweet, sends shivers through her. Especially since her chest and arms should be freezing. As the bathwater evaporates, Marina’s fingers comb through her hair, short nails at the base of her scalp, and she tugs just so; Pearl’s inhale catches and they separate again, breathing for a moment. Their foreheads bump, and Pearl can’t hold her smile back. 

“Marina,” Pearl laughs. That’s it, just her name, and Marina kisses her again.

“Pearl?” she asks, and it’s playful. Her eyes are still closed. She kisses Pearl again, and lets her tongue swipe over Pearl’s bottom lip, a fraction of a moment. She’s hesitant, and Pearl swallows thickly, her skin as hot as the steaming water. She might be ready to melt, any moment now. 

Marina pulls back after the bolder move, leaving a kiss on the corner of her mouth. She becomes lazier, like they’re just waking up. It’s not electricity, not yet, but Pearl feels like she’s blooming under sunlight. She opens her eyes to realize Marina’s are still closed. She’s breathing just as heavy as Pearl, but her exhales are near silent. She smiles into the palm of Marina’s hand.

Pearl kisses Marina this time, excitement lifting her. It doesn’t last, Marina’s lips move to the corner of Pearl’s mouth and she kisses along Pearl’s jaw, messy press of lips, Pearl swears she can feel Marina’s tongue flick over her skin, and shivers run through her. She’s breathing hard, voice catching on half-formed whines, she’s become loose and pliable and dizzy, and she feels her skin burn but Marina isn’t letting her go, not a second to think. 

It’s not until Marina bites her neck, and Pearl exhales hard, a noise like a whimper chokes out, that she seems to realize her arm is halfway underwater supporting Pearl’s lower back, and that the bubbles have started dissipating. 

“Fuck,” Pearl hears her hiss. The sensation through her body leaves sharply along with the heat surrounding her, and she blinks awake only to watch Marina try and twist the water out of her shirt sleeve as she shoves out the door.

Pearl’s breathing begins to regulate again; once she’s reclaimed enough oxygen to stop her head from spinning, she realizes she needs to get out of the tub, because the bubbles are gone and the water is finally beginning to cool. She  _ really _ hopes her dad did not hear that sound she just made.

Pearl wobbles back to her bedroom with her towel secured under her armpit, hair hanging wet and stringy in front of her face. When she opens the door, Marina is already sitting on her bed, staring at the heart-shaped box of chocolates propped against the wall. The portion of her sleeve that had been underwater is a darker green than the rest of her shirt; Pearl smiles lazily.

“Who’s winning?” she asks.

“Hmm?” Marina turns to face her, confused.

“The staring contest,” Pearl explains. “You, just answered my question by letting the chocolates win.” 

Marina exhales a laugh through her nose, shaking her head. 

“I gotta get changed,” Pearl says.

Marina pauses. “Should I… close my eyes?” When she sees Pearl raise her eyebrows, she frowns and averts her gaze, Pearl knows she’s blushing. “I’ll close my eyes,” she amends. 

“You can do what you want,” Pearl says. “Hot stuff.” She smirks at the distasteful little  _ o-oh _ that comes from Marina’s mouth. 

“You call me that one more time and I won’t look at you for a week,” Marina grumbles. One week. One week ago, Pearl was sick in bed. She’s glad Valentine’s Day is over. 

“D’you,” Pearl breaks into a yawn as she pulls her shirt on over her head. “You...you…wanna’nother shirt to wear, ‘cause that one’s wet?”

“I don’t fit into any of your clothes.”

“Oh, you don’t have to wear mine,” Pearl pulls up her sweatpants, combing her still-pruney fingers through her hair to appear semi-presentable. “You can open your eyes, now.” She beelines for her closet without checking to see if Marina’s obeyed. Without flipping on the light, she checks her “stolen clothes” shelf, which, as of late, has accumulated many articles of Marina clothing. She never keeps them long, anyways, so it’s hardly stealing. 

Pearl exits the closet with a nondescript gray sweatshirt, about three sizes too big for her.

“Where did you—” Marina gapes at her, pushing to her feet and snatching the sweater. “I’ve been looking for that!” 

“Stole it from your locker last week,” Pearl smiles, self-satisfied. “Stopped smelling like you a few days ago, figured I’d give it back.” She slides onto the bed behind Marina. Her limbs are still heavy from the heat of the bath, she relaxes back. 

“You know I would lend you my clothes if you want them so bad,” she laughs. “You don’t have to be annoying and steal ‘em without telling me…” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Pearl snorts. She watches Marina masterfully slip off her half-damp shirt underneath the confines of the sweatshirt. She pulls it up out of her collar and drops it in her lap. “You’re so talented, baby…”

Marina looks at her oddly, then reaches down and squishes Pearl’s cheeks.

“Shtop!” Pearl laughs. “Shtop dat!” 

Marina lets her go, leaning back to the mattress, squishing Pearl underneath her weight. Her head falls back, Pearl watches her chin point up as she halfheartedly bangs her fists on Marina’s stomach, begging freedom.

“ _ Ow _ ,” Marina laughs, really laughs, and it catches as a snort. “Really,  _ stop _ that, Pearlie—” 

“ _ Free me _ ,” Pearl wheezes. “I’m dying, I’m small and you’re taking advantage—” Marina rolls off her and she wheezes, gasping new air into her lungs. 

“Pearlie?” Marina asks once Pearl’s caught her breath and done being dramatic. Marina’s laying on her stomach over Pearl’s thighs, cheek squished to the bed. 

“Yeah?” Pearl certainly wasn’t thinking about the way Marina was kissing her before. 

“Is that chocolate mine?”

“Told you it was.” Pearl’s eyes slip shut. She thinks she can fall asleep again, especially if her legs continue to be restricted by a very heavy, lifelike, Marina-sized blanket.

“We should get up,” Marina says. 

“No,” Pearl yawns again. “We shouldn’t.”

“I told Nessa I’d be super quick,” Marina catches her yawn, contagious as they are. “Like, yesterday quick.”

“Nessa can wait,” Pearl murmurs. 

“Punctuality is important,” Marina challenges.

“Cuddle time with your woman is also important,” Pearl easily returns.

“I’m crushing your legs,” Marina smiles. “This is cuddle time?” 

“You can always come up here,” Pearl does grabby hands, and Marina obliges. It’s not long before her arms settle around Pearl’s waist, and it’s even record time when Marina kisses the corner of her jaw. 

Pearl hums, half-asleep. With her eyes closed, she focuses on the feeling of Marina’s soft lips against her neck. “Thirsty today?” A pause; Marina kisses the corner of her mouth, and the chasteness is a hairline fracture. Marina pinches her side. “Ow…”

“Don’t make fun of me,” she kisses her lips, slow and lethargic. “And don’t fall asleep, either. We have a movie to watch.”

“M’not asleep,” Pearl rubs her eyes. “I am awake, alert, maybe alive. Kiss me again.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Marina rolls her eyes, but Pearl knows she’s going to oblige. It’s been a week since this started becoming something more regular, and Pearl soon realized it wasn’t really that different from where they were at before. Pearl still takes naps in Marina’s lap, Marina still asks Pearl to help her out while they’re changing for gym (because she’s just  _ never _ been capable of doing it herself…), there’s just more kissing involved, now. It’s a welcome change, Pearl thinks, as Marina sucks at a spot on her neck. 

“I thought we— _ ah _ ,” Pearl feels the color start to rush back to her cheeks, “Had a movie to watch?”

“Mmnot now,” Marina says right up against her skin, the sound vibrates sweetly between them. “Your fault.” She pauses. “Your heart’s beating really fast.”

“Marina,” Pearl kicks her legs, like a child. Marina pinches her again.

“Don’t whine like that, it’s annoying.”

Pearl sticks out her bottom lip. 

“You’re three years old,” she chuckles. 

“I am the sexiest fucking three year old to ever live, then,” Pearl scooches back over the mattress, lets her head hang over the edge. Marina’s hand is resting over her stomach, under her shirt. She’s always liked that direct contact. She knows Marina’s hesitant, but she wants that hand to go a little higher, like, the stage they were at before.  _ Fuck _ the movie. 

“Pearl,” Marina’s voice is quiet. Pearl ignores her. Tranquility settles in her as all the blood rushes to her brain.

“Pearl,” Marina repeats, more insistent. She does this often, just repeats Pearl’s name. It’s a lovely tradition, she thinks it’s so cute Marina pretends to think she’s a lost cause. She laughs lightly, and it sticks in her throat. She feels the bed shift with Marina’s weight, and then her voice is right in Pearl’s ear.

“Pearl.” Her voice is low, too quiet to hear if she weren’t right next to her. It’s dark, it’s heat. Pearl shivers, and lifts her head. Marina is looking at her; Pearl swallows. 

“You called?” 

Marina kisses her, and it has that same purpose from before, if not a little muted, a little more languid. Her fingers snake up through Pearl’s wet hair, holding her head up over the edge of the bed. Her body is right up on Pearl’s, Pearl can feel her breathe, can feel her leg shift so her knee is planted just inside Pearl’s thigh, digging into the mattress so she can hold herself up, but that doesn’t matter so much now because her lips are divine and her hands are magic touch under Pearl’s shirt, and she can’t think very well anymore. 

Somehow, Marina’s tongue finally makes it into the equation, or from Marina’s equation to Pearl’s equation, and Pearl moans lightly into her mouth, hands fisting in the fabric of her newly-returned sweatshirt. She hums in response, fingers ghosting over Pearl’s ribs. She just took a bath, damnit, she’s sweating again. 

“Picking up where we— _ mm _ —left off, huh?” Pearl chuckles breathily. 

“‘S that okay?” Marina whispers the question. She noses along the side of Pearl’s neck, giving her a chance to breathe. 

“Mm-hm, yeah,” Pearl smiles, even though she’s not sure Marina sees it. Her thumb flicks lightly over the thin fabric of Pearl’s bra. “ _ Marina _ ,” she gasps, trying to arch into the touch. Her head lolls back again, she’s completely liquid under Marina’s touch. But just as the sensation mounts sweeter, Marina’s touch pauses, her lips leave Pearl’s neck, and the cool air flooding across her stomach and legs tells her Marina’s gotten up again. 

The human head weighs around eight pounds, but Pearl’s feels about forty when she sits up and blinks out of the fog. Marina is standing in the doorway, facing away from Pearl. Her arms are crossed. 

“You’re gonna fucking, kill me, you know that?” Pearl rubs her eye, adjusting her shirt to a less rumpled state. “Shit…” she mutters. 

Marina doesn’t respond. Pearl watches her shoulders shift slightly as she breathes. 

“At least your arm isn’t wet?” Pearl offers. She watches Marina sigh, returning to the bed, She sits gingerly, and turns to look at Pearl. 

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly. Pearl is delighted to see she looks just as kiss-rumpled as Pearl feels. 

“No,” Pearl sets her hand on Marina’s shoulder. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, for someone who hasn’t kissed people much, I’d say you done alotta’ things  _ right— _ ”

“Pearl,” Marina laughs nervously, “I just—oh, I don’t—I don’t know. I just kind of, freeze up, aren’t we… aren’t we too young?” 

“For what? The old dosey-doe? I’m clean, if that’s what you're worried about,” Pearl half-jokes. Marina laughs incredulously, shaking her head. “Do you… want to?” Pearl tries her hand. Marina exhales, long and tortured. 

“Maybe,” she answers quietly. “If you promise not to call it that ever again.” Pearl smiles. 

“Well, I give ya full consent to all the merchandise,” Pearl’s smile widens when Marina starts laughing. “Once you’re ready. I said it like twelve bajillion times, but we can go as fast or slow as you’re comfy with. Uncomfy is not good. We got like, so much time, Marina. We can do whatever we want. Without herpes.” 

“Pearl!”

“What? Come on, safety is important,” Pearl continues, already kicking up her tangent.

Marina stands up, marching over to grab the chocolate box. “We’re going now! We are not talking about this anymore.”

“Aw, come on!” Pearl wipes nonexistent tears from her eyes. 

“You said we can do whatever we want?” Marina marches out of the bedroom. “Let’s not get annihilated by Nessa tonight—come on yourself!” 

Pearl wipes a final imaginary tear and slides off of the bed. She meets Marina at the end of the hallway, by the window that overlooks the mountains. 

“Thank you,” Marina says earnestly, and Pearl rests against her side.

“Anytime. Anything you need,” Pearl murmurs.

Pria is queen of the debate team, sharp as a tack and ever the blank slate of calm. Sometimes Lenn and Macey bring popcorn to eat while they watch her and Marina go at it during debate practice. Significance lies in social ties; Pria also happens to work at the video store, and gives discounts to anybody with the guts to ask her for one. Since Marina has verbally disemboweled her more than a few times, the offer stretches through to cover every Friday movie night. 

She nods to them as they step into the store. 

“Tweedle dee,” she looks from Marina to Pearl. “Tweedle dum.”

“Hey, Pria,” Marina waves. 

“We just got a new copy of  _ 2001 _ a few days ago…”

“God, no,” Pearl nearly gags under her breath. 

“I think we’ll look around a bit today,” Marina pinches Pearl’s shoulder. “Thanks, though.”

The fluorescents drain the life from the air, as well as all the remaining color in Pearl’s already-pallid complexion. She eyes Marina warily where she’s browsing the sci-fi section. Noticing the glare, Marina holds her hands up, palms out.

“No Star-related titles?”

“Nope,” Marina affirms, passing through the aisle with a wistful, longing expression.

Pearl decides she really doesn’t care which movie they watch. She just wants to spend time with Marina, and stuff her face with week-old Valentine’s chocolate. She doesn’t say this explicitly to Marina, but she also doesn’t say no to any of the tapes Marina holds up. She’s not looking for anything in particular, so her tired, leaden feet lead her to Marina instead. She squishes her face against Marina’s back while she weighs between two tapes. 

“You shmell like cold,” Pearl mutters. 

“We were just outside,” she hears Marina answer. 

“You’re shoooo shmart,” Pearl laughs like she’s drunk. 

Marina chuckles. “What is the matter with you?” 

“I’m so fucking tired, Reena, I’m losing my damn mind,” she hugs Marina from behind. 

“Then why can’t we watch The Empire Strikes Back? You can just sleep through it!” 

“Marina,” her voice vibrates between Marina’s shoulder blades. “Aren’t your sisters tired of that movie yet?”

“Of course! But they’re exhausted too! You can all sleep through it, I’ll just watch.”

“Unbelievable. They call me stubborn.” Pearl feels Marina’s smile, the way her stomach tenses when she laughs.

“You know most people who ask me for the discount thing just want to watch porn or something,” Pria says, looking between them and the stack of tapes on the counter.

“We’re cooler than most people,” Marina responds easily. Pearl snickers. 

“Uh huh,” Pria rings them up. 

Pearl bursts into the entryway with the giant heart-shaped box projected in front of her. 

“We come bearing gifts!” She announces, and a whoop from the kitchen is Nessa’s response. Yuma, sitting at the table, looks up at the two of them.

“Dear lord,” her eyes widen. “That—”

“Holy-fuckin-moly!” Nessa half-cackles. “That thing’s  _ huge _ !”

Lenn is spinning around in one of the chairs at the kitchen peninsula. She stops to get a look at the menagerie, and chuckles incredulously before spinning again. “That could give Theo a run for his money.”

“You outdo yourself every year, you funky kid,” Nessa takes the chocolates out of Pearl’s hand and holds it up to the light. 

“Hey, Theodore will never be outdone,” Marina steps in defensively.

“Yeah, he’s an icon… this old thing’s only half the size of him, anyway,” Pearl scoffs, kicking her boots off and shrugging her jacket off her shoulders. 

“What took you guys so long?” Lenn complains.

“Ah,” Marina exhales, and Pearl quickly steps in.

“Lots of selection at the store, I had to corral her a few times before we could choose.”

“It ain’t matter, just git in here, kids! Gather ‘round the old telly!” Nessa calls from the living room. 

“She’s a little jazzed,” Lenn slides out of her chair with an affectionate smile, almost uncharacteristic. 

“Coming, Kelp?” Marina turns to Yuma, who’s scribbling things down in a notebook among the stacks of paperwork on the table. 

“You guys go on, I’ll join later,” she smiles thinly, waving them away without looking up. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“Yumani, you elderly woman, get’cher ass in here!” Nessa exclaims.

“Don’t yell across the house,  _ Nessie _ ,” Yuma responds, even-keeled as always. The bite is in the nickname. 

“I’ll start throwin’ shit at you if you don’t unwind and relax in exactly one hour, you hear me?”

Marina takes Pearl’s hand and leads her to the living room. 

“Loud and clear. Maybe too loud. Should I start calling you foghorn, instead?” Yuma’s answer remains smooth. Lenn snorts, already prying the chocolate box open. 

“I’ll put in the movie,” Marina volunteers, leaving Pearl on the sofa as she heads for the VHS player. 

“Alright,” Nessa claps her hands once. “Movie rules; if you break any of them I am by law of this land obligated to break your femurs—yes, Pearl?” Nessa sees Pearl with her hand in the air.

“Both of them?”

“Yes, I will break both of your femurs. Yes, Lenn?”

“At the same time?” 

“Yes, I will break both of your femurs at the same time. Any other questions?” This routine is tradition. “Okay then, no shouting, no vomiting, no breathing too loud. Keep it civil when you’re refilling on snacks, and—” she clears her throat, “—in light of recent events, some amendments have been added to the list. Don’t have sex, or, if you simply must get wild, do it somewhere else.”

Pearl bursts out laughing.

“Nessa!” Marina’s face flushes darkly.

“Don’t act like we don’t see the goo-goo eyes,” Lenn jabs her finger at them. “You guys are fuckin—“

“ _ Urena _ ,” Yuma warns from the other room.

Lenn scowls. “ _ Freakin, _ gross.”

“No making out, either. No biting. No moaning, or other obnoxious noises.”

“ _ Nessa _ ,” Marina hisses, hiding her face in her hands. 

“I can break a total of four femurs at once, I suggest you keep your hormones in check.” Nessa clears her throat. “And don’t forget to enjoy the movie. As always, snacks courtesy of MC Funky over here.”

Pearl nods respectfully, accepting the credit.

Lenn reaches behind her head to hit the lights as Marina finishes setting up the movie.

“What are we watching, anyway?” Lenn looks to Pearl, who shrugs. Marina remains strangely silent. 

“Iida?” Nessa asks.

The screen is dark, until familiar blue letters appear across the screen, and the room erupts. 

“I thought you said you  _ corralled _ her!” Lenn groans.

“Marina Iida, this is not funny anymore!” Nessa says gravely. “Femurs are on the line, here.”

“It’s not what you think!” Marina has a huge smile on her face.

“Oh, what is it, then?” Pearl glares at her as the opening fanfare starts strong. “And  _ don’t _ say it ain’t Star Wars.”

“It’s not episode five, though! It’s Return of the Jedi!” Marina’s voice bubbles over laughter. 

“You  _ mess _ , you’re so lost over her you can’t even stop her from picking the same-ass movie!”

“Shut up!” Pearl whacks Lenn with a pillow.

“Hey! It is  _ not _ the same!” Marina protests weakly.

“Folks! Let’s keep it civil! MC Funky, keep the hands off the little one, she’s small and prone to fits of violence.” Nessa mediates. “Iida already put the thing in, may as well watch it, but next week…” she looks dangerously from Marina to Pearl, “We are  _ not _ watching Starry Wars, got it?”

“Oh, al-right,” Marina fakes a mopey look, but she has an evil little grin on her face when she settles back onto the couch. 

“Bet you’re feelin’ real proud, huh?” Pearl whispers, grabbing a few chocolates from the open box on the coffee table. Marina merely chuckles, flicking the TV’s volume up on the remote.

Half an hour into the movie, Yuma comes in and collapses into the loveseat next to where Nessa sits. Not even ten minutes later she’s fast asleep, her whole body’s weight (admittedly, probably not that much at all), against Nessa’s side. It’s still a little odd, Pearl is so used to these nights just being the four of them. 

Pearl is nestled in her usual spot, curled up in Marina’s arms, head tucked to the crook of her neck. Every so often Marina will turn her head from the screen and press a little kiss to her forehead, comb loose strands of hair from her face, which is so disgustingly sweet, but Pearl really doesn’t want to be anywhere else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [deleted scene](https://twitter.com/octatronica/status/1288663841308471297)
> 
> thank u cauden for suggesting another nerdy movie to add to marina's repertoire ;) 
> 
> and thank you to all the readers, commenters, or kudos-leavers for sticking with me and my abysmal posting!! 😭😭 it really does mean a lot to me that anybody enjoys reading these things that i write... <33
> 
> (also i had no idea what to name this chapter lolll so i may possibly change it... if i remember to)


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